Lost in Translation
by daughterofares97
Summary: Helen had felt odd and out of place for as long as she had lived in Camp Legion. But as a result of an accident brought on by her own ineptitude, she has become thrust into a new world where she finds her place.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, well this is my second real story on this fandom, hope you enjoy.  
>Virtual cookies to anyone who guesses Helen's godly parent, hint: it's not Ares. It's my second favorite god!<strong>

Dear whoever the hell is bored or sick enough to actually read this,

I would like to start off by saying that I hate short swords, they are completely and utterly useless. I would also like to say that I hate roman Legions, which is ironic, since I'm a soldier in one.

But, as usual, I'm getting ahead of myself, blame the ADHD, that's my excuse for everything. But again, I digress.

I suppose I should start with my family; well, here goes; I used to live with my single mother in New York which is where my mother gave birth to the one light in her otherwise pathetic and pointless life, ME! Yeah, my words not hers. This is also, incidentally where my mother decided to name me Helen Alexandra Cartwright, probably the greekiest name in the history of greekish names. That, combined with my dark hair and eyes, and my tanned skin, it's no wonder I've been called Graecus my entire Roman life.

Anyway, moving on; later, we moved to San Francisco to live with her brother, my uncle. When I was ten, however, the monsters started to attack. Before I knew what was happening, my twin cousins (who are a few months older than me), took me to where I am today; New Rome, otherwise known as a camp for violent teenagers hopped up on drugs and steroids.

Much to my friends' chagrin, I was also unfortunate enough to be born with a sense of humor, a rebellious heart, very poor eyesight, no skill with a sword and absolutely no clue who my father is. In short, I was probably the worst roman since the senators who murdered Caesar, now that's an achievement.

But, time to return the present.

* * *

><p>"Helen!" cried the deep voice of my best friend from outside my room.<p>

"Coming Marcus." I screamed back to the son of Mars, as I threw the lovely, warm covers off of my body. I peered out at the fuzzy room that surrounded me to see the entire fifth cohort had abandoned me. The bastards.

"Are you wearing your armor?"

"Yes," I screamed back, shrugging on jeans and a camp shirt.

"Then why is it outside in the dirt?" he questioned, plainly enjoying himself.

"Shut up." I growled as I burst through the door, adjusting my thick-rimmed glasses, leaving a trail of garbage behind me. I ran up to him, and he instantly helped me adjust the imperial gold breastplate around my upper body.

Marcus, a model roman soldier, passed me the matching helmet and dragged me to the parade ground just in time.

As I bumped into my compatriots in the fifth cohort, my friend took his place in the first, between my cousins, Julius and August, children of Minerva. With their well-groomed hair, perfectly polished imperial gold armor and weapons, and their huge roman noses, they were the epitome of roman warriors.

Scowling, our praetor, Reyna, strutted into the room, her customary scowl etched firmly on her face. She had been PMSing ever since our other praetor, Jason (great guy), disappeared a few months ago.

After inspecting the other cohorts Reyna marched towards mine, her braid swinging, and her super-scary dogs growling at her heels.

Surprisingly, no one so far had any weapon or armor failings, and I was pretty sure I didn't either. Our noble praetor thought differently.

With a toss of her head she snapped "Where are your shoes Helen?"

I glanced down at my feet and realized, much to her horror and my amusement that I was wearing nothing but socks which were covered in fat cows saying 'Mooooo'. "Hiding." I said, uncertainly, smiling sheepishly at her.

Reyna was not amused by my rather witty response "As a punishment you and you alone, shall clean the first cohort's boots, tonight." she said, her lips beginning to curl.

* * *

><p>One pair down, about fourty more to go. I thought dully, as I scrubbed the boot with a toothbrush, already aching from all the marching and running I had had to do in order to escape training.<p>

"Salve Graecus." my cousin, August, greeted me affectionatly, walking into the boot shed.

"Romanus rodentum" I spat back.

She laughed and came to sit next to me. "Roman rat, really, you do realize you're a roman too, don't you? Anyway, I came to keep you company, idiot."

"Well then, scrub these boots." I said, hopefully.

"Reyna has forbidden it." she replied "so I thought I'd help you with your latin verbs."

I instantly groaned inwardly (and outwardly I might add). You see, most roman demigods have the ability to speak and read latin without being taught. I couldn't, although I was damn good at Greek, an attribute which does not work in my favor.

"Now" droned August.

Kill me now was all I could think.

Finally, finally the boots were finished, and with a pained moan I stood up, stretching my aching back, as August and I headed out the shed door, and towards the communal baths.

Shrugging out of our dirty clothes August slid gracefully into the scalding water. I, on the other hand cannonballed in, smacking against the tiled floor, before popping to the surface, to see the glaring face of Cornelia, daughter of Venus, who scowled at me and muttered 'graecus' before leaping nimbly from the bath. The insult which used to hurt now served only to put the offender on my 'to-prank' list.

Smirking I slid over beside my equally gorgeous friend and said "Do you want to hear a joke?"

"No!" she instantaneously said, backing away from me in mock fear.

"Okay then." I said as she groaned "Do you know why PMS is called PMS? Hmm, hmm?" I said, snorting at the answer which was to come. As August made no move to reply to me I decided to give her the answer anyway. "Because mad cow disease was already taken." I cried, laughing so hard at my own hilarity that I fell over.

Needless to say, she didn't laugh "You romans have no sense of humor." I said, punching her playfully in the arm.

"Oh would you shut up." Said a rather peevish female voice from across the steamy room.

Welcome to a day in the life of the only sane Roman soldier.  
><strong><br>Salve: Hello  
>Romanus Rodentum: roman rat.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! (original AN, no?)**

We swam around for a bit, cleansing ourselves in first hot then cold water. Finally, yawning my cousin and I got out and put on some clean clothes.

"Come on, Helen, training, no getting out of it this time." August said, glaring at me.

"Please no!" I screamed dramatically as she dragged me from the changing room. By my hair, I might add. Bloody Romans.

We arrived at the training arena quite quickly (whoever invented speed marching plainly didn't have short, stubby legs like me) Thinking quickly I seized onto my only hope of escaping the torture that was sword training, quickly I latched myself onto one of the pillars outside the training arena, refusing to go any further.

August, tired of pulling me, called over her shoulder "Marcus, Julius, she's having another temper tantrum."

"Am not!" I screamed over my shoulder, my grip on the pillar tightening.

Almost instantly two heavily muscled arms grabbed me around the waist and yanked me from the column. "Marcus, you are the worst friend in the world" I growled as he set me down, I glaring up at him. I did my best to look intimidating, but me being 5'7 and him 6'2 it only looked comical.

"Come on short stuff." He said, throwing me an imperial gold gladius.

I caught the short sword with distaste, throwing the three soldiers looks of complete and utter disgust.

"Whose turn is it today?" asked my cousin Julius, smirking. You see the three of them each take turns attempting (usually unsuccessfully) to teach me the basics of sword fighting.

"I'll do it." Said Marcus, smiling sheepishly, as the twins snickered, as if they knew a secret. They were weird like that sometimes. I think its twin telepathy.

* * *

><p>"Helen, how many times do I have to tell you that when you're trying to sword fight you should keep the sword in your hands. You do not drop it and run away screaming 'there's a psychopathic killer on the loose'." said Marcus, his chocolate eyes twinkling, as he ran a calloused hand through his black hair.<p>

"Where's the fun in that?" I complained "besides, running is the only thing I can beat you at, I need to do it sometimes." I continued, punching him playfully in the shoulder.

"Yes, yes, we all know you're an okay runner, however, that does not mean you have to use everything as an opportunity to practice."

"Whatever, superboy." I said laughing as Julius and August trotted over to us, identical grins on their round, olive skinned faces.

"So, watcha wanna do?" I asked my only friends.

"I thought we could go to the movies in New Rome." August replied, tying up her auburn hair.

"Awesome, so long as we don't have to watch Gladiator, for the fifth time in a row." I said, relieving myself of my armor, and chucking it unceremoniously into the shed we were walking past.

The cinema (or amphitheater) in New Rome, was a huge stone affair, reminiscent of the Coliseum in old Rome, except not as big.

"I say we watch Gladiator." said Marcus, August and Julius simultaneously.

"Oh come on, we've watched that a hundred times, lets watch 300, it looks so awesome!" I said, jumping up and down "Come on, you agree don't you Marcus?" I said, grabbing his arm, and giving him my infamous puppy dog eyes.

"Um...yeah, let's watch that." he said sheepishly as I fist pumped in victory.

Sprinting off to get army issue popcorn I heard Julius tell Marcus, "If she starts kicking people in the chest, screaming 'This is Sparta' I will kill you."

What the hell does that mean? I wondered to myself, inhaling popcorn and soda.

* * *

><p>That movie was probably the most epic thing I have ever seen; rage, intense battle scenes, armies which used <em>real<em> weapons and armor, not pussyish short swords and huge-ass shields, and most importantly people getting kicked into bottomless holes. Although some of the effects were admittedly a bit disturbing. I was definitely gonna have awesome, scary dreams tonight, I thought gleefully, as we walked out the theatre doors.

"What are we gonna do now?" whined August and Julius.

"Why don't we get a snack, I'm famished.' Said Marcus, rubbing his stomach. I swear, that boy is like a bottomless pit.

Suddenly a brilliant plan sprang to my mind, a plan so amazing in its total epicness that it made me want to laugh evilly.

"No." I replied loudly.

"Why not?" groaned the son of Mars.

"Because" I said, slowly turning to face him "THIS IS SPARTA!" I screamed, kicking him with all of my might in his chest. Okay, technically his leg, because I couldn't reach his chest, and somehow I don't think he'd appreciate being kicked in the groin…

The annoying part was he didn't even flinch.

"You know, you could have the manners to at least _look_ hurt." I said peevishly to my laughing friend.

"You are so pathetic." All three said in unison, clutching their sides with laughter.

"Whatever." I said as I began to bound off into the night "Night Guys"

"Its seven o'clock." August stated confused.

"I'm still tired though." I shot back, as I entered my barracks.

* * *

><p>Sighing I threw myself onto the bed yawning, curling up under the covers, still wearing my sweatpants and shirt.<p>

"Night already?" inquired a soft voice from behind me.

"Oh yeah, all that training, ya know." I said to my centurion, Gwen.

"You haven't picked up a sword in two weeks." she said, arching her eyebrows.

"I'll have you know." I said, pouting, as my head hit the pillow. "that I trained for a good hour today, and that the sword was in my hands for at least ten minutes, thank you, come again."

"Don't forget we have war games tomorrow. And this time, I don't want you to run, scream, or sing. Is that perfectly understood?"

"Okay, okay, non torsil subligarium." I replied, a smile gracing my lips. You see, I may not be able to speak latin, but I had taken great care in mesmerized almost all the swear words or funny sayings that I could, this particular one meaning 'don't get your knickers in a twist'.

"I'll get my knickers in a twist if I please." Said Gwen as she laughed and waved me off to sleep.

Even though it was only seven fifteen, I knew I would need my sleep if I planned on waking up early in the morning like I usually did, so I snuggled into my not-so-very-fluffy pillow and, despite the cacophony, I succumbed to sleep within seconds.

**Well, good, bad, OK? Tell me in a review, don't just favorite this story and run, I know who you are! OK, that was a bit creepy even for me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Insert random author's note here.**

War games; probably the most evil thing invented since cottage cheese.

Of course, being in the fifth cohort, we always lost, without fail; I'm pretty sure we hadn't won in thirty years. And we were always the invaders of a Roman fort, who rarely ever win, even in real life (except for the Britons, they were kind of good at that). Not that I mind being on the losing team that much, hell, I've gotten used to it, it honestly doesn't matter to me anymore. What I hate is the fact that I always get trampled into the dirt, and I hate the infirmary. Those Apollo kids are creepers.

Consequently, it was no wonder I had to be dragged out of bed in the morning.

"Hazel, Gwen, wake Helen up." slurred our centurion, Dakota.

My arms instantly braced around the headboard, ready to put up a fight which never came.

"Helen, we have chocolate waffles for breakfast." came the enticing voice of Gwen, our other centurion. I instantly shot out of bed, and began frantically rinsing off my face and hair with a bowl of water left to me by one of my cohort mates. Undoubtedly Hazel, she's such a saint it makes me feel bad about my own wicked ways. As all of my clothes were dirty, I stole someone else's shirt, and threw on old sweatpants and sneakers. Hey, it's not like I had anyone to impress.

I rushed to the breakfast room, which, incidentally was completely devoid of chocolate waffles. With a growl I slumped into my seat at our cohort's table, and stuffed some bacon down my throat. As I drank my milk I gave Gwen my best death glare, which, in all honesty, wasn't that scary, especially since I had a milk moustache.

We were paired with the second and third cohorts, and surprise, surprise, we were attacking. Gods I hate my life sometimes.

* * *

><p>"Tortuga!" shouted Dakota at the front of our cohort.<p>

Instantly our shields locked into place, forming what should be an impenetrable wall to all attacks. Unfortunately, it never turned out that way.

Our formation broke down within minutes, what with the barrage of water cannons, arrows, flaming bolts and the insults being catapulted towards us, it was no wonder the cohort scattered. With anger I  
>noticed the jeering faces of all the other cohorts, even our allies. It was at moments like this that I hated their guts, every single one of them. Their stupid laws, armies, weaponry and especially their stupid, stupid togas. Who wears sheets nowadays anyway.<p>

It was times like these that made me glad I wasn't one of them. Because despite what everyone said, I refuse to believe I'm a roman. No, I'm-I'm…a half alien, who happens to have all the physical characteristics of a demigod…yeah, that's it.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to dwell on these philosophical musings, as I saw a jet of something white and frothy shooting towards me. I realised far too late that I should have ducked.

There is something about getting hit in the face with a blast of high pressure water which really wakes you up. I'm being sarcastic of course; the medics say I was lucky that only my nose broke, the rest  
>of my face was just one big, achy bruise. And thus, I was left all alone, in pain, singing 'all by myself' a little too loudly for any of the other, sleeping patients' volcanic tempers.<p>

I suppose I should take this opportunity to tell you about Jason. Let's see, what could I say about Jason Grace, member of the fifth cohort, Praetor of the legion, slayer of Krios and eater of staplers? Well,  
>quite a lot actually, but I'll keep it brief. Jason was the savior of our camp, and an all-around great guy. He was fair, brave, an amazing soldier, and a good friend. Of course it would be a lie to say that he didn't<br>get on my nerves, a lot, for his general perfection and occasional bouts of angst, but he was one of the few people who actually accepted me as a semi-friend, no matter how many times I shaved his head in his sleep, and for that I am thankful. Oh, and most importantly, he used to eat staplers (which I think is pretty G).

But he disappeared a while ago, nobody knows where he is, or what he's doing. It's been a source of tremendous strife for everyone at camp, with the possible exception of Octavian, our augur and resident  
>teddy-bear murderer, but we'll get to him later I suppose, for now, by Zeus-I mean Jupiter- I'm going to sleep.<p>

* * *

><p>"Cartwright, front and center." screamed a seemingly furious voice in my ear.<p>

With an un-roman like shriek I shot out of bed and fell on the floor, still wearing the fluorescent purple infirmary pajamas. I swear they make us wear these things just so we want to leave.

"Julius, you shouldn't do stuff like that to her." said an obviously amused, masculine voice.

"Thank you Marcus." I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes "At least I have one good friend."

"Two!" cried August, as she helped me to my feet.

"My face hurts." I complained, as I felt the swollen flesh.

"Stop poking it then, idiotus." said Julius, laughing

"Oh shut up, you...you obesito illegitimo!" I shot back triumphantly.

Marcus laughed and shook his head as he said "Five years of studying latin, you still can't conjugate the simplest verb, and yet you know how to call someone a fat bastard."

"Well, gotta get your priorities right." I said, my now-swollen impish features twisting into a lopsided grin.

We laughed at that as Anthony, son of Apollo walked into the door. He gave us what he probably assumed was an attractive smile (but actually made him look like a leering goat) as he walked towards me.

"Drink this" he ordered, handing me a small cup of nectar. "Then you should be alright to leave." He finished with a smile, then turned towards August, and winked. "Make sure she leaves when she's cured, we don't want any malingerers."

She blushed furiously and muttered "Okay" before he left.

"Oooh, August's got a luuurveer." I began singing in an annoying, exaggerated preppy voice, dancing around my glaring cousin.

"Just drink the nectar." She spat back, her hand plainly itching to grab her gladius and run me through.

I drank it slowly, savoring the taste of brownies and peach ice cream. Smacking my lips I looked around at my companions, feeling my bruised face return to its normal, non-swollen state. "So, what are we doing?" I asked hopefully.

"You're going to bed." Said August, grabbing my arm.

"But it's only midday." I complained loudly.

"You've been asleep for seven hours." Replied Marcus "Honestly I have no idea how you manage to get so tired, you must sleep for about thirteen hours every night."

Oh you have no idea, my friend, I chuckled darkly to myself. No idea, muahahaha

"Um, Helen, please stop laughing like that, it creeps us all out."


	4. Chapter 4

**You should know the drill by now; read and review.**

I awoke to the sound of a muffled ringing. Yawning, I shot out of bed, landing with a thump on the hard wood floor. I reached my hand under my pillow and switched off my alarm clock. Glancing at my watch i read the time, 2 am. Perfect timing, and for once I wasn't being sarcastic.

Quickly I slipped on all-black clothes and shoes, grabbed my night bag and slipped out the cabin. I tiptoed past the sleepy guards and sprinted towards the unicorn stables. Pausing briefly to greet the snow white unicorns I headed straight for the only two pegasi in camp.

Reyna's pegasus, Scipio, Skippy for short, snickered at me, her peanut butter coloured coat rippling. She only stopped when I fed her a carrot. Quickly I moved on to her compatriot who was angrily stamping his foot on the floor.

Smiling, I gazed at my baby. His glossy, mottled grey coat gleamed in the light of the full moon, his muscles rippling as he stamped around his stall. It almost made me want to cry the way he was locked up in here. He had the most gorgeous silver wings you have ever seen, perfectly grafted for the graceful flight he was made to do. He calmed down a bit when he saw it was me, and not one of my fellow soldiers, who all insisted on trying to ride him. Not that they ever succeeded of course.

I rubbed my hand up and down his silky nose as I fixed a halter around his neck and unlatched the stall door. "Easy Caesar boy" I whispered soothingly, as I led the Pegasus out the door using a long lunge lead, which I had tied to a post outside. With a long neigh of ecstasy he soared out the stable door and up into the sky.

I chuckled as I sprinted after him, coming to a stop in the dewy grass. Sighing I lay down and watched him fly around. If I had the choice I would let him free, but I was only a soldier, still on probatio, and therefore had no say in any matter.

I lay there for some time, perfectly at peace with the world, before glancing at my watch. Seeing that it was three thirty I picked up the lunge lead, and began my nightly battle of getting my baby back into the stables.

He, as always, did not want to go back in. Heaving a sigh I gave the lead an almighty tug, and, to my never ending horror it snapped in my hands. Shocked, I gave a tiny scream. If someone found out I let him escape i would be drummed out of the legion for gross misconduct, disobeying orders and endangering the camp's secrecy.

Therefore, I did what any sane thief would do. I ran.

I reached my bed, gasping for air and ripped off my clothes, replacing them with my purple pajamas. I slipped into my bed as quietly as I could. My heart pounding I lay unmoving, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat, consoling myself. This was what I wanted right? The legion had no right to hold Caesar, he was a free agent, he deserved to fly free. Oh gods Reyna is going to slaughter me, I thought giving a small whimper.

Eventually, however, I fell into a troubled sleep.

For once I woke up at the correct time, but not wanting to appear too suspicious I lay still and snored, getting up only when a bucket of ice cold water was thrown on me.

"I'm up, I'm up." I grumbled throwing the covers off, and jumping unsteadily to my feet. Carefully I grabbed my glasses from the bedside table, my usual grin on my face, the lump still present in my throat. I grabbed a towel and sprinted to the shower section of the baths.

I showered and dressed in well-under three minutes (as I usually woke up late, I had to master speed showering). I donned my armor and marched to the parade ground with the rest of my cohort.

"Legion!" screamed Reyna, a vein in her temple pulsing angrily "Earlier this morning someone released the Pegasus, Caesar, from his stall. We have been unable to locate him. If anyone has any idea of who did this I ask that you step forward now." Her gaze, as well as all of those of my friends' instantly snapped onto me. Thanks guys, really appreciate it.

The second Reyna had finished screaming at us for our pathetic inadequacies, the legion disbanded, each member going their separate ways. I myself went to Bombilo's coffee shop to buy a box of triple chocolate chip donuts with cream fillings. What with the tongue lashing I was plainly going to get from my friends, I was sure I was going to need them.

I was hiding in tree, munching on my third comfort donut when I heard the enraged tones of my friend.

"Get down here right now." Whisper screamed Marcus.

"No." I replied, stuffing a chocolaty pastry down my throat.

"We know you did it Helen." Said Marcus.

"I did not. Honestly, just because I have a history of stealing items and sneaking round after dark doesn't mean I'm responsible for everything that goes wrong in this god-forsaken hell-hole." I spat angrily, taking a brief hiatus from shoveling the fattening treats down my throat.

I heard a sigh from below me as Marcus' tousled head appeared among the foliage. He hauled himself up onto the branch next to me, pulling a few stray leaves from his curly, black hair. His eyes burning holes through my face he grabbed my last donut and sat there staring at me. Without blinking. For several minutes. And he refused to look away.

"Fine, I did it." I said miserably, staring moodily at the empty donut box in my hands. "Will Reyna kill me?"

"Yup." He replied, grinning.

"Oh, well thanks for being supportive you-you…" I racked my brains for a latin insult (I really needed to learn some new ones), before finally saying "you os porcus."

Marcus, of course laughed at that, clapping me on the shoulder. "Pig-face, yourself. Just don't be late for evening muster, or else Reyna will kill you. And I am not saving your ass any more."

"You always say that!"

**Okay, you've read, now review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Just watched The Lorax with my friends, and we are now officially all Team the Lorax's moustache!**

I tried hard for the rest of the day, I really did. I didn't steal anything, prank anyone, I didn't scream or drop my sword, I didn't shoot anyone with arrows, or set the unicorns on a blood-thirsty rampage (trust me, it's happened), I even came to evening muster on time. And with no armor malfunctions either!

I'm fairly sure that this uncharacteristic behavior confirmed in every ones' minds that I was indeed the culprit. But they have no proof muahahahaha…anyway, back to evening muster.

Things were not looking good; a vindictive smirk spread over Reyna's face. Now, don't get me wrong, Reyna is a good leader, she undoubtedly saved our skins in the Titan war (not that I'd know much about that, I was left unconscious in the first attack wave). She could be vindictive though, a lesson I had been forced to learn the hard way.

"Demigods" she said, her face a mixture of sorrow and cool professionalism "I think it's time to organize another search for our praetor. He _is_ alive." She spat, addressing this statement to Octavian.

"Marcus Anderson, you shall lead the quest." Oh, that's good I mused as Reyna paused, Marcus had wanted to lead his own quest for _years,_ and he could probably steal me a new iphone "choose a team to take with you, but take Cartwright, I'm sick of her." she finished with an air of finality.

Okay, not good, not good. The last time I left camp I ended up being mugged by fauns, chased by a hydra and arrested for fraud. Yeah, long story, maybe I'll tell you later, or maybe I could tell you about the time I beat a child of Fortuna at cards through the ingenious use of a spork, glow-in-the-dark silly string, and a chocolate taco.

But back to the quest; Fortuna must really hate me to have cursed me with such bad luck. Come to think of it, that may have something to do with the spork… Hmm, note to self, do not diss a demigod in their own field. Not that I have much opportunity anyway, not since August confiscated my do-it-yourself cheat kit.

I soon woke up from my intellectual reverie, however, when I marched smack dab into someone else's armored back. Wow, soldier's life must really be getting to me I had been marching without even realizing it. From now on I'll have to try to be a bit more non-conforming and rebellious!

Rubbing my still-sensitive nose, I skipped off towards Marcus who was making absolutely no attempt to break up the cat fight that was quickly developing between August and Julius (sometimes they were just so immature)

"_I'm_ going." Shrieked August

"No me!" yelled Julius, purposefully splattering his sister's face with flecks of saliva.

With an enraged shriek August launched herself at him, claws at the ready (but don't tell her I wrote that).

"Five denarii on Julius." Said Marcus happily.

"You're on bro, August has got the eyes of the tiger today. Do you think we should tell them that they can both go?" I asked, smiling.

"Nah, let 'em fight it out." He said, applauding as Julius clamped August into a very un-brotherly headlock.

"Aww, come on August." I groaned loudly in an attempt to create a diversion as I pick-pocketed the denarii from Marcus' pocket. What? You honestly thought I was going to pay with my own money? Yeah, that's not going to happen.

"Fine, fine, I submit." grumbled August, trying to piece together the remains of her dignity as she leapt to her feet. I groaned theatrically and handed Marcus his winnings (which technically were already his)

"You do realize that four can go?" said Marcus, grinning.

"Three is a lucky number though." Julius pointed out, much to his twin's irritation.

"It's just a routine search party, nothing major." replied Marcus "Four'll be fine. Why don't you go pack, I'll go to Reyna for details, and we'll leave in the morning. Seven o'clock sharp."

"What? No, not so early! Let's leave at the crack of ten, no exceptions." I suggested, hopefully.

"Helen, if you can drag your lazy ass out of bed in the middle of the night to liaise with some horse, you can wake up at the proper time. Oh, and Helen, I know you stole my money." Gods damn it that boy is getting good.

Okay, time to check the good ol' canvas bag. Converse? Check. Scented markers? Check. Lock pick? Check. Water gun? Check. Cereal box ring? Check (hey, gotta have that bling) Exploding deodorant? Check. Poisonous lotion? Check. Pixie stix, just in case I get a little too sober? Check, check and check!

Clothes? Damn it! Knew I forgot something…okay, now I'm ready.

Man, I am physicked! I'm gonna make this quest my bitch! Right after my nap…

**Well, not that good and not that long. But at least something is going to happen next chapter. Review in the meantime?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, a little longer this time.**

There's something about waking up at dawn that really gets me down. It's so cold, and there's no bacon and everyone else is either asleep, in a zombie-comatose state or so amazingly happy that it makes you want to grab a machine-gun and start mowing people down. This morning, however, I had no choice. I was dragged from my bed, thrown into the back seat of a car, and I continued to snore my way through most of California.

I woke up to the familiar and pleasant sound of August screaming in my ear to 'get the hell up'.

"What? Where? Cupcake!" I screamed intelligently as I shot out of my seat and landed on the car floor.

"We're at the airport." Said Julius, dragging me behind him "And we're late!"

* * *

><p>So, let's see how my trip at the airport went shall we? The airline forgot my reservation. My mother called me up to scream at me to be careful on my quest (August was going to pay for telling her about this). My carry-on bag was too big so it was forcefully ripped from my hands and sent cargo. I set off the security alarms so many times that I had to be frisked by a security <em>person<em> (I refuse to believe that was a woman, it had a beard for Jupiter's sake). The duty free shop _refused _to sell me any hard liquor (honestly, saying I'm not twenty-one, the nerve of those people!) And, of course, the flight was delayed, and when I finally managed to get on I was sat next to an airhead bimbo carrying a screaming child. As I said before, Fortuna must hate me.

Leaning over towards my bastard of a friend, Marcus, who had sneakily snagged the window seat, I asked "So, where are we going?"

"Detroit." He replied, doodling on his air-sickness bag.

"Ooh, what's that, it sounds fun." I asked excitedly (I honestly had no idea what Detroit was)

"It's a city…in Michigan." He replied slowly.

"Um yeah, right. I know Michigan." Is that a country or something?

"Michigan is a state." He said, looking at me like I was insane.

"Hey, I haven't been to school in about five years, and I never paid attention even then, so don't judge me." I snapped back quickly. "Why are we going there anyway?" I asked, thankful that my cousins were too busy arguing to have heard the display of my geography skills (or rather, the lack thereof).

"There was a major demigodly disturbance in a car factory over there. Basically, Reyna's clutching at straws." He said dejectedly. I suddenly realised that this was probably because he knew that he would fail his very first quest, and probably be branded an incompetent fool because of it. Of course, he richly deserved the title, but only I am allowed to call him that, so back off.

"Don't worry, we'll succeed." I said brightly, patting his back comfortingly.

He was just so cute when he was sad, it wasn't a side of him I often got to see. He was usually either gruff and violent or nice and funny when I got him alone, but he was hardly ever vulnerable. I guess it was the whole 'Son of Mars' thing.

However, he was slightly less cute when he was snoring and drooling all over my shoulder. I swear nothing could have woken that boy up, not even the massive air turbulence combined with the vomit-inducing stench of the airline food. And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, the baby vomited on me.

Quests are so fun! (take note of the sarcasm in this sentence)

* * *

><p>We managed to rent a car quite quickly (and illegally). Marcus had to use a forged driver's license and wore a fake moustache and a trench coat to make himself look older. Blackmail book, here I come! What, did you expect me to be sentimental for long? Oh please.<p>

Of course, once we found the car I offered my driving services, seeing as I had had the most sleep out of the four of us, and simply because my driving skills are epic, thank you very much. Alas, I was never given a chance to prove myself because immediately after the three hardened warriors had stopped quaking in their huge boots at the thought, they tied the poor helpless me up and threw me in the backseat of the car. I think we were starting to follow a pattern here.

The car ride was fairly average; Marcus was driving while screeching out Iron Maiden songs, Julius was doing his son of Minerva thing with a huge book about Quantum Mechanics, August was nerding it up with a high-tech GPS, while I, the only normal person, was attempting to chew through my bonds while singing Set fire to the rain by Adele.

We arrived at our destination at about sunset, and I've got to say, it was a dump. An old, abandoned car factory with some crushed porta-potties, fun!

Julius, who suddenly decided to be a nice person, and cut me free from my bonds. Growling at him, I got out of my car and stretched, and followed the others, all of whom had their weapons drawn. Hmm, sword, so that's what I forgot!

"That's weird." Muttered Julius, almost to himself.

"What is?" asked Marcus, a little annoyed that his subordinate had noticed something he hadn't.

"Maybe it's nothing." Murmured August and Julius in perfect sync.

I looked towards where they were looking. It was a sloppy sign drawn in ancient, peeling paint of one big eye, reading underneath it, MONOCLE MOTORS.

Fingering my glasses thoughtfully I said, "I think I should get a monocle."

**Yup, I started a sentence with 'however', my English teacher would have killed me!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the long wait, but school has been hectic, I've had the school, and I just discovered a new book series called ****The dark is rising**** by Susan Cooper, and I've been reading non-stop.**

"Could we please try to retain a level of seriousness here please?" Begged August, rubbing the bridge of her nose in the classic 'I am sick of you inferior beings' pose.

"I am being completely serious here." I said sternly "I would like great with a monocle and a pimp cane! Just like Lucius Malfoy!"

"What's that?" Whispered Marcus, drawing his sword, and glaring at a piece of sheet metal which lay against a wall.

"Probably an inanimate object, hell-bent on staying exactly where it is." I replied "We should leave it alone, you have no idea what it could do."

"Ha ha." Spat Marcus dryly, creeping towards the wall, sword in hand. "Come on guys, you take the back, I'll take the front. Helen, just take this knife and try to tie your shoelaces." snapped my friend, handing me an imperial gold dagger.

Glaring at him, I bent down and tied up the laces of my converse. I just hate them when they go into cool, roman warrior mode, it's so annoying.

Of course, I didn't want to disturb their little party, so I watched cautiously from the sidelines as the three others crept up around the sheet of metal and ripped it up, throwing it to the floor.

"Look out, he can probably smell fear." I said, trying desperately to stifle my laughter at their stupidity as I stared at the adorable mutt puppy they had revealed.

"Shut up." Growled all three in unison. I just love making fun of them.

"Don't be loud, you'll scare the little thing." I said, moving towards the adorable brown puppy.

"No, Helen, don't pick it up." Groaned Marcus, as I picked up the little dear "No Helen, don't stroke it, you'll get attached."

"Shut up Marcus. Now, what to name you baby? Hmm?"

"No, you are not naming it. If you name it, it will only keep following us." Groaned Marcus.

"I hereby proclaim you, Simba!" I shouted proudly, raising the slobbering puppy into the air.

"It's a girl." Said Julius, smirking at my stupidity.

"You're ruining the moment." I hissed back angrily, clasping the newly-named Simba to my chest. "You're adorable anyway." I whispered back to the wiggling puppy, who then proceeded to lick my face to death.

"Helen, you are not keeping it."

"Why not? Reyna has dogs why can't I?"

"Because, dearest cousin," began August "Reyna's dogs are automatons, they don't vomit, chew things, or excrete…um…waste."

"I don't care, Simba is mine, all mine!" I screamed, kissing Simba's adorable pink nose. "aren't you little girl?"

"Come on, this place is obviously useless, let's just go already." Groaned Marcus, plainly desperate to cuddle with Simba (I just _know_ he does)

"Yes, let's go get Simba a lovely warm bed and some cake!" I exclaimed loudly, nuzzling my new puppies warm neck.

"Dogs don't eat cake, it'll give them indigestion!" exclaimed August loudly, aghast at my naivety. "Haven't you ever read The Complete dog care book?"

"Simba can eat whatever she likes because she's the best dog in the world!" I screamed as the adorable puppy yipped in agreement and gave an extra strong tail-wag.

"Oh can we just kill them already?" moaned a feminine voice from behind us.

"Marcus, don't speak about Simba like that." Exclaimed August and I in unison.

"What?" he squawked "that wasn't me, that was one of the sphinxes…which are standing right behind us."

"Should we run?" I squeaked, desperately tugging on Julius' sleeve.

"Yes." Squealed the twins, as Marcus cried out "I do not sound like a girl!"

I really would have liked to say yes you do, but as we were being chased by a horde of hungry monsters, and he was definitely the most skilled with a sword, pissing him off may not be the smartest idea. Instead I settled for a quick shriek "Marcus, just RUN!"

From behind us came the steady patter of lions' feet on concrete. "Quick, they're getting away!" screeched one of the monsters, increasing her pace. You know, she really did sound weirdly like Marcus.

Unfortunately, now was not the time to dwell on the squeakiness of my post-pubescent friend's voice, no, now was definitely the time to run and hopefully not get killed.

"Helen, take the right path, we'll circle round and get them, okay?" shouted Julius, determination etched on every line of his face.

"Okay, be safe!" I shouted desperately, dashing around a corner. Of course it made me feel bad leaving them, but if I was honest with myself, I knew I would be nothing but a liability.

Unfortunately the splitting paths did not help me much as our attackers also changed paths.

"Why won't you just leave us alone." I cried out peevishly as I was forced to dash into a building in an empty hope that they wouldn't follow.

Now, cornering myself off, leaving no space to run probably wasn't the best of ideas, but as it turned out it was an even worse decision than anyone would have thought possible.

As I sprinted through a door and crashed to the floor the eyes of a hundred monsters, all forging weapons snapped on me.

**Damn, that was a badly written chapter, I really shouldn't write when I have the flu. **


End file.
